


Cygate/Cywhirlgate 500

by AsteroidMiyoko



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Blood Drinking, Consensual Kink, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsteroidMiyoko/pseuds/AsteroidMiyoko
Summary: Drabbles, at least 500 words each about Cygate and Cywhirlgate





	1. Vampire Cyclonus

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Asteroid Day everyone!  
> Have something totally self indulgent! XD

Rewind's movie nights were endlessly fascinating to Tailgate. Having not spent any time on Earth, (well, the original Earth anyway) he loved to see the ways that Terrans were different from Cybertronians, and the surprisingly numerous ways they were the same! So when they settled in one night for a movie that Rewind helpfully described as "scary, but not really, just kind of unsettling, but sort of romantic too, and you know," Tailgate couldn't wait.

A few minutes in found the minibot's visor brightening in shock while next to him Whirl crowed, "Oh, SICK!" with obvious glee. On the screen, what he thought was just another human was in fact some sort of fanged variant, called a vampire, who lived off of the energon of other humans. Tailgate thanked his lucky stars that they weren't anywhere near Earth at the moment, and scooted a little closer to Whirl, who kindly pretended not to notice Tailgate's shiver.

As the film went on, however, a strange thing happened. Certain victims of the vampires seemed not to mind the treatment, in fact, if they survived it, they seemed to actually enjoy it.

Like.

_Really_ enjoy it.

Tailgate in-vented abruptly.

"Whirl!" he said, nudging the copter with a small elbow. "It's like, you know!"

"Huh?"

"The energon-sucking stuff, its-."

He wanted to explain, but somebot hissed out 'Be shoosh!' so he quieted with a little huff, snuggling back up to Whirl.

It was too bad Cyclonus had a shift on the bridge and hadn't been able to join, Tailgate thought. But he was definitely going to let him know what he'd missed.

* * *

In actual fact, Tailgate forgot all about the movie until a couple of weeks later when he wandered into the gym to see if Cyclonus wanted to hang out after his training session. As the door slid open, a particularly loud CLANG almost made him jump several feet in the air.

_What in the- oh, he's sparring with Drift again._

It seemed like they'd been at it for a little while; they were circling each other slowly, and had several vents open to release excess heat.

Rodimus waved, and Tailgate made his way to the far side of the room to join him.

"Boo!" the captain said as several seconds went by without either of them making a move. "Watching old guys fight is boooooring!"

"Rude!" Tailgate half-sparkedly punched Rodimus, who laughed and made a show of falling backwards.

Finally though, the fight did continue in earnest, and the two of them moved so quickly that Tailgate could hardly keep track of their pedes. Drift must have been practicing, because he executed some sort of maneuver that caused Cyclonus to lose his balance for a moment, just long enough for Drift to tap him soundly on the back of the helm. With a snarl, Cylonus spun back around, and, well, some other things happened, but Tailgate completely lost track. All he could focus on-

_Wait._

All he could see-

_Does Cyc have…_

"Fangs?!"

"Huh?" the captain frowned, "What now?"

Tailgate pointed frantically with both servos. "Did you see that? Cyc has fangs!"

Squinting, Rodimus looked over at the pair, who seemed to be winding down.

"I don't see anything, TG, but you'd know better than me what sort of, uh, extra equipment Cyclonus has."

Sometimes Tailgate really wished he had standard optics, so he could do that rolling motion that some of the other bots used to express slight annoyance. 

Alas. 

In anycase, his optics were currently more focused on Cyclonus' face as he and Drift walked over to them. They were talking quietly to each other, clearly satisfied with the outcome of their fight, and already making plans to do it again soon. From what Tailgate could see, the fangs had vanished as if they'd never been there. Maybe he'd imagined it?

* * *

A couple weeks later, it happened again.

"I _knew_ it!"

But how to bring it up?

* * *

"Stop fidgeting." Cyclonus mumbled, voice low with recharge, as he laid a heavy arm over Tailgate's middle to keep him still.

Tailgate murmured an apology, but he couldn't help turning his helm again to stare at Cyclonus. So what if he had fangs? He wasn't _actually_ one of those vampire things. It was probably just some sort of mod left over from his other life.

Red light suddenly washed over him as Cyclonus onlined his optics.

"Tailgate."

"Um, yes?"

"What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing really."

Cyclonus stared at him for a long moment, long enough that Tailgate couldn't help but squirm, before exventing quietly.

"Just tell me."

"Ok," the minibot said finally, "but don't get mad and don't make fun of me."

A nod was his only assurance, and then there was no way out of it. He just had to ask.

"Cyc, have you heard of vampires?"

"I have not."

"Well, so, I was watching this movie with the others," (He ignored Cyclonus' mumbled 'of course') "and there are humans called vampires who drink the energon of other humans as food."

"I assure you, there are no vampires on board to worry about."

"Ok, but I mean- oh. But the thing is, the way they do it is they have fangs and-"

"Ah, I see." Cyclonus smiled a little at that, and tugged Tailgate a little closer. "I promise you mine, and presumably this holds true for others as well, are ornamental."

It should have been a relief, to know that he was not in any danger of being used as food. But honestly… He turned more fully and tucked his helm under Cyclonus.

"Has it ever happened though? Would somebot ever need to drink someone else's energon? Or would they get sick?"

Cyclonus seemed to think about it for a few kliks, and while he did, he kissed the top of Tailgate's helm absently.

"I suppose in an emergency situation, if a transfusion wasn't available, it would be possible to stave off system failure that way. From my limited medical knowledge, it would be supremely inefficient however. And in anycase, there are cables for that sort of thing. There would be no need for a mech, probably barely able to move from energon loss, to obtain it through their intake."

"That makes sense…"

"You still seem unsure, little one."

Tailgate shook his helm with a little sound of declination. "No, I get it. And anyway, I bet even if you were a vampire, I wouldn't be in any danger from you." He said with a little laugh.

"You can be sure of that. Now, go to sleep."

And that was the truth of it, Tailgate thought as he eventually drifted off. Cyclonus would never want to hurt him, even if, well, even if Tailgate sort of wanted it.

A little.

Okay, more than a little.

* * *

Tailgate managed to put it out of his processor for the next few cycles, and everything went back to normal. And honestly, he wasn't complaining; he and Cyclonus were having a good time getting to know each other in berth without complicating it with experimental stuff yet.

And if he passed Whirl in the hallway, who grinned and whispered, "I'm looking out for you, Legs, don't you worry!" he didn't pay it too much mind, because it was Whirl.

* * *

It was late evening. Tailgate happily made his way to Swerve's to catch up with the others after several cycles of long shifts at work. 

As he turned a corner, he swore he could feel someone following him, but when he turned to look, there was no one there. Shrugging, he headed for the lift to take him to level ten.

"Level ten!" he called out, and the lift started moving up.

After no more than a couple of kliks though, it jerked to a stop, and Tailgate had to grab on to a handle to keep from stumbling.

"What now…" he mumbled. "Level ten, please." But nothing happened.

And then-

The lights went out.

"Slag slag slag-" Trying not to panic, he opened his comms. [Cyc, uh, I need some help. The lift is broken. Or at least, I hope that's all it is, and not a sparkeater or something…]

No response. Did Cyclonus have his comms turned off? Great…

But before he could try again, he felt the flash of a field and then sudden pressure as he was pushed up against the wall of the lift. Desperation filled his spark, and he struggled against a solid hold.

"Quiet." a familiar voice hissed.

"…Cyc?"

Right next to his audial he heard, "You are not to make a sound unless it is to tell me to stop. Do you understand?"

Oh. Tailgate nodded frantically.

"Good." Cyclonus ran a digit along the cables in Tailgate's neck. "I haven't eaten all cycle…"

_OH!_

Tailgate couldn't help the sharp invent as Cyclonus descended, nipping lightly at the main cable on the side of his neck before running his glossa over it. Apparently, that sort of noise was ok, because he hummed in that way that Tailgate knew meant he approved.

One large servo curved around his waist to support him, and the other reached up to push his helm further up and to the side. Tailgate would have sworn he could feel the energon rushing through his system as he eagerly anticipated what he hoped would happen next.

A field saturated with desire and _hunger_ battered his, and then-

Pressure.

A shock of pain.

The warmth of lip plates closing over his neck cable, and the entirely unique sensation of energon being steadily drawn out. Tailgate clutched at Cyclonus' chest plates as a moan stuttered its way from his vocoder. After a few short experimental sips, Cyclonus started to suck in earnest, and Tailgate's visor flickered in time with his desperate gasps. It was… it was like nothing he'd experienced before. He felt _desired_ , like he was the only thing that could sate the mech whose control he was completely under.

"You taste so _sweet_ , little one," Cyclonus murmured, "I don't think I'll be satisfied until I devour you entirely." And he leaned back down to drink again.

Tailgate's legs threatened to give out under him, but the other mech didn't so much as pause in his ministrations, simply shifting to completely support the minibot's weight as he continued.

Pleasure crackled through Tailgate's systems as he completely relaxed into Cyclonus' hold. Distantly he was aware of his HUD displaying warnings, of his control over his servos lessening, but it seemed like a far away worry. And he knew he was supposed to be quiet, but he could barely hear his own voice anyway as he whimpered, "Cyc… I almost… think I'd let you."

Tailgate was floating.

The last thing he saw before his optics offlined was Cyclonus stricken expression, and a little drop of pink smeared over his lips.

* * *

When Tailgate next gained consciousness, he was cocooned in meshes and resting against a warm surface. He let himself bask in it for several kliks before slowly onlining his optics.

Glancing down, he saw Cyclonus servos tightly clasped around his middle, a tiny diagnostic cable and a large transfusion one running from his chest to somewhere behind him as they lay in their berth.

As soon as Cyclonus noticed he'd wakened, he turned Tailgate carefully so he could separate far enough to look him over.

_Why does he look so worried?_ Tailgate wondered.

A cup, full of medical grade his sensors told him, and a brightly colored straw appeared in front of him.

"Drink, please, love." Cyclonus said, voice tinged with something Tailgate couldn't quite identify. But he was happy enough to obey the instruction, taking several long sips before settling back into the berth.

He reached a servo up to his neck; the wound had already been covered with a sealing mesh and a repair cream if the tingling was any indication. Cyclonus disconnected the cables, spooling them up and tucking them away.

After another searching look, Cyclonus pulled Tailgate close.

"I am… I… apologize." he said, voice cracking.

Huh?

"What do you mean?" Tailgate asked. Had something gone wrong?

"It was foolish of me to rely on verbal confirmation during the later stages of our…interaction. It won't happen again."

Equilibrium was rapidly returning to Tailgate's systems, enough that he was able to sit up and guide Cyclonus to do the same. Servos resting gently on either side of Cyclonus' helm, he leaned in and tapped his face plate against the other's lips in his version of a kiss.

"First of all, I forgive you." he said, optics bright. "Second of all, it was my fantasy, and it was _exactly_ what I hoped it would be."

"But-"

"Nope, it's up to me how I feel about this. Now," he tugged the meshes up and around both of them. "Obviously, it's up to you too if you never want to do it again, but just know that I enjoyed it."

When Cyclonus said nothing, Tailgate poked him gently in the side.

"Ok?"

Finally, "…I understand."

They lay wrapped around each other for several kliks before Tailgate spoke up again, voice teasing.

"It was hot though, right?"

With a stiff nod, Cyclonus huffed against his helm. "I enjoyed it far more than I thought I would."

Tailgate wanted to cheer, but he thought that would be pushing it, so he settled for giggling into Cyclonus' neck as he cuddled closer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whirl and Cyc find a fight, and then take care of each other.

"We sure showed- ow!" 

Whirl wrenched his claw out of Cyclonus' grip, the fast-acting salve the jet had applied stinging as it worked on the deep scrape he'd gotten in their latest scuffle.

Scuffle.

Well, that was one word for their regular outings to deal with troublemakers in their own particular way. Cyclonus had suggested it as a way to keep their skills sharp during peace time, and pits, Whirl wasn't going to complain about the opportunity to rough up some aftholes. Plus, the view was nice.

Somewhat more gently, Cyclonus clasped Whirl's claw and rested it back on the table between them.

"Stop moving." he growled.

"Easy for you to say!" Whirl complained, "You didn't even get hit, you cheater!"

He could feel the annoyed exvent from under Cyc's helm as he leant over Whirl's claw with a mesh bandage. Red optics briefly flicked up to meet his, then back down to focus on wrapping the mesh carefully around the injured section. Inspite of himself, Whirl relaxed when his repair was complete, and then immediately tensed again as Cyclonus twisted to the side to wrap up the medkit.

On the jet's side, high on his torso, was a nasty looking cut crusted with dry energon and very slightly oozing the same.

Whirl was on his pedes and on the other side of the table in an instant.

"What the slag, Cyc!?"

Straightening, Cylonus turned back slowly, a guilty glint in his optics.

"It's-"

"If you say 'it's nothing' I'm going to shoot you twice. And even worse, I'm going to tell TG what we've been doing."

By the time Whirl finished, Cyclonus had pushed the medkit towards the copter and had his servos up in surrender, face pale.

"Please do not."

With a smug optic, Whirl unrolled the kit and poked around in it. "Staples, staples… where are the… ah ha!"

It was a little difficult to finagle, but Whirl was able to hold the medical stapler against Cyclonus' side with one claw and reach to punch it with his opposite elbow. He glanced up, at the stiff set of the jet's jaw, at the tight curl of his fists against the table.

"Here goes, buddy."

_Shick_

A flinch.

 _Shick_ _Shick_

As quickly as he could, Whirl fastened the last couple of staples and tossed the stapler aside. Cyclonus visibly relaxed. Already the last bit of energon leak had stopped. Glancing at the tin of salve, Whirl hummed. How exactly to manage that?

A servo on his shoulder draw his attention upwards.

"My nanites will take care of the rest." Cyclonus assured.

With a relieved laugh, Whirl leaned back against the table. "Thank the Unmaker, cause, uh, I was totally making it up as I went along."

"Clearly."

A long moment passed in silence as exhaustion from the fight finally caught up with them. Sighing, Cyclonus stood, holding a servo out to Whirl who took it without complaint.

"Let's get some rest." he murmured.

Whirl took heavy steps across the room, "Not gonna argue with that."

They collapsed on to the berth, Cyclonus laying on his un-injured side with a leg swung over Whirl, and Whirl clasping his servos in his claws between their frames. They didn't even bother to pull up a mesh.

Moments before being pulled into recharge, the copter mumbled, "Hey, Cyc. Can you do the thing?"

"Of course."

With surprising gentleness Cyclonus popped open the little panels just under their chest plates and connected two delicate data cables.

The last thing Whirl remembered before finally falling under, was soft data packets of affection, pride, gratitude, pulsing slowly into him.


End file.
